


Make Some Noise

by okqueenie



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Loud Neighbors, Oral, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 12:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18098873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okqueenie/pseuds/okqueenie
Summary: You and Gwilym are flatmates and best friends. What happens when you two finally get fed up with your loud neighbors?





	Make Some Noise

The first time it happened was only a few days after you and your best friend Gwilym had moved into your shared apartment. It was your first day back to work since the move, and it had been hell. Your boss had gotten angry at you in front of basically all of your coworkers over something that wasn’t even your fault, and the paperwork that had built up from your time off was insane. You had stayed later than normal to finish up, texting Gwilym that you were going to be later than normal. So when you strolled into your flat at 8 pm with an empty stomach, you were elated to see that Gwil had saved you some dinner. 

You quickly grabbed a plate from the cabinet, cut yourself some lasagna and threw it into the microwave for 45 seconds. As soon as the timer went off, you took the plate out and shoved a large bite of food into your mouth. 

“Rough day?” Gwil asked, making you jump and choke on the lasagna. Struggling to breathe, you coughed in an attempt to choke down the food. “Oh shit, I—are you okay?” Gwil asked, rushing over to you with a look of panic in his eyes. You waved him off, pointing him towards the sink to try to get him to get you a glass of water. He looked at you in a panic, his eyes darting between you and the sink. When you had finally swallowed enough lasagna to speak, you croaked out “water,” and he quickly filled you up a glass and handed it to you.

The water helped the food to go down, so after three large gulps, you were finally able to speak again. “For fuck’s sake Gwil, kill a girl why don’t you?” you gasped, still out of breath. “I’m sorry, I thought you heard me,” he replied sheepishly. “Work was that bad, huh?”

“You have no idea. My boss yelled at me in front of just about every single employee, over something that wasn’t even in my department, let alone my responsibility. I think the next time I see Kyle from HR, I am gonna strangle him,” you said between bites of lasagna. “Well Y/N, I hate to break it to you but I think that might get you sent to HR,” he laughed, while you stared daggers into his skull. “Not funny. I just want today to be over with,” you groaned, shoving the last bite of lasagna into your mouth and walking towards the sink to rinse off your plate. 

“Nu-uh, I’ll clean that up. Think of it as my way of apologizing for the entire male sex for causing your shitty day.” Gwil said, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. “You go take a hot shower to decompress and get into bed. You deserve it.” “Ugh, Gwil you’re an angel, thank you,” you sighed, pulling him in for a tight hug as you set your plate down next to the sink. “Seriously, I owe you!” you shouted over your shoulder as you pranced towards your room, ready to wash away the stress from the day.

You took one of the, albeit fastest, best showers in your life and quickly slipped on one of Gwilym’s jumpers that you had managed steal during the move and your favorite pair of shorts. Sinking into your bed, you took a deep breath and relished in the scent of Gwilym. It was something you couldn’t quite put your finger on—a mix of his cologne and something else that could only be described as Gwil. 

Just as you began to drift off into unconsciousness, you heard a moan through the wall at the head of your bed. Thinking you had imagined it, you dismissed it as a trick of the mind and rolled over. When another louder moan seeped through the wall, along with the rhythmic thumping of a headboard, you knew what was going on. Groaning, you pulled your pillow over your ears and tried to drown out the noise. Your methods worked for about 5 minutes, but soon sounds that didn’t even deserve to be called moans permeated your defenses. As you threw your pillow off of your head and grabbed your phone, the headboard’s staccato rhythm against the wall became more defined, causing you to wince.  _ I know I’m not getting any, but damn that can’t feel good, _ you thought to yourself. 

You tiptoed down the hall towards Gwilym’s room, the sounds from the couple next door fading with each step. You could see the light in his room peeking through the crack between his door and the floor, signaling that he was awake. You lightly knocked on the door and heard a muffled “come in”, so you sheepishly ducked inside his room to find Gwilym inside on his phone. 

“So our next door neighbors are having the world’s worst sex right now and they don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon, can I lay down in here for a while?” you ask, a blush quickly rising to your cheeks. Gwilym burst into laughter, throwing the covers back on the other side of the bed and motioning you towards them. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing but they’re christening the apartment for us!” he exclaimed as you slid into bed next to him.  _ A shame—no. Gwilym is your best friend, _ you thought to yourself. “Wait, is that my jumper you’re wearing? I thought I lost that in the move” Gwil asked, pulling back the covers that you were trying to hide underneath. “Uh… Maybe I snagged it out of one of your boxes when you weren’t looking?” you admitted, a grin creeping across your face. Gwilym’s eyes ran down your body, drinking you in. “I can go change and give it back,” you stuttered as you started to climb out of bed. “No, no please don’t go change. I rather like you in my clothes, you wear them better than I ever could,” he said, grabbing your arm to pull you back into bed, his eyes pleading with you. “Oh, uh, thanks Gwil,” you murmured as you laid back down, trying to hide your smile. “Anytime. I’ll be right back,” he replied, hopping out of bed and walking towards his closet. 

He slipped inside, and you took the chance to get comfortable, sinking deeper into his bed and taking a deep breath in to absorb the smell of Gwilym. Sooner than expected, Gwilym emerged from his closet in a pair of gym shorts and an old t-shirt. “Goodnight Y/N,” he said, turning off his lamp on his bedside table and turning towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” you asked, propping yourself up on one elbow. “I’m going to sleep on the couch, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he answered, pointing towards the door. “Gwil we’ve known each other since our freshman year of college, I think we can handle sleeping in the same bed. I’ll stay on my side and you can stay on yours, I promise I’m not uncomfortable,” you insisted. “Only if you say so,” he conceded, sliding in next to you. “Goodnight Y/N,” Gwilym whispered. “Night Gwil,” you replied, quickly sinking into a deep slumber. 

The next morning you awoke with your alarm to find yourself lying alone in the middle of his bed, Gwilym already gone for his morning run. Throughout the following months, about once or twice a week you would find yourself climbing into Gwilym’s bed to escape the sounds of your neighbors. Almost every time you woke up, Gwilym would already be out on his morning run. But every so often, you would wake up to find yourself tangled up with Gwilym, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. The soft thrumming of his heartbeat through your ears made you want to stay in the moment forever. Those mornings were your favorite mornings.

And now, you were sitting on that very couch Gwilym almost slept on, watching him do the dishes leftover from dinner. The two of you had worked out a system, on Mondays and Wednesdays, Gwilym would cook. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you would cook. Whoever had the night off from cooking was responsible for cleanup, and Fridays plus the weekend were free-for-alls. It was a Friday, and Gwilym had ordered takeout from a local Thai restaurant that paired wonderfully with an expensive wine that Brian had recommended to him. After Bohemian Rhapsody, Gwil had a quite a bit more money to splurge on some things, but he was still your Gwilym who griped about rising toilet paper costs. 

As you sipped on your leftover wine and tried to read the news on your laptop, you couldn’t help but admire the man who stood in the kitchen. He always had a knack for looking good, no matter what he was doing. Whether it was to your shared 9 am classes back in college, or to award shows for Bohemian Rhapsody, Gwilym always made sure he was the best dressed one there. With being the best dressed one in the room, of course, came lots of clothes. So much so, that when the two of you moved into the apartment, Gwilym had actually begged you for the room with a bigger closet to fit all of his clothes in there. 

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging you for that room, it has the perfect closet for my clothes,” he pleaded, actually falling to his knees and taking your hands in his. “Fine, but as soon as we’re moved in here, you better put on the best fashion show I’ve ever seen for me,” you agreed with a laugh. Gwilym jumped to his feet and twirled you in the air, elated that you had said yes. “Be prepared to be amazed,” Gwilym said as he set you down, a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

Later that night as you were organizing your bookshelf, Gwilym had burst through your door in an outrageous outfit that featured a yellow tracksuit zip up, olive green dress pants, vans, a turned-around baseball cap, and sunglasses. “Y/N, I suggest you get your ass into the living room right now so you can witness the once in a lifetime experience of a fashion show featuring your very own Gwilym Lee,” he raved, giving you his best  _ Blue Steel _ look as he pulled down his sunglasses to reveal his very own piercing baby blues. “Well how could I ever dream of missing this?” you laughed, scrambling into the living room. 

Gwilym’s looks ranged from utterly outrageous—who knew he owned a Tigger onesie?—to downright gorgeous. Gwilym would mix it up with every look, modeling looks from previous photoshoots to his running clothes. The looks that got the loudest cheers from you, however, were the goofy ones that let his personality shine. His final look of the night was a serious look, a gray jumper that slightly resembled a turtleneck, with navy trousers and dress shoes. It was a simple look, one that you would expect him to wear to a press event, but it struck you in a way that you couldn’t describe. Well, describe besides the rush it sent to your core. You felt your lips part in awe as he walked across the living room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close your mouth. 

Once Gwil had crossed the living room, he stopped and looked at you smugly as your eyes raked up and down his body. “Earth to Y/N?” he chuckled as you quickly closed your mouth and looked him in the eye. “I… God, Gwil you look really good, I’m not going to lie. That jumper looks wonderful on you. Is it new?” you murmured, still entranced by Gwilym. “As a matter of fact, it is, thank you. I kinda thought it made my neck look weird, but judging by your reaction it’s a hit,” he laughed as he flopped down next to you on the couch. “You should wear it more often Gwilym, you look really good in it. I’m serious,” you vowed. 

Gwilym took your advice and began wearing the jumper more often, especially when he would see you. He would always try and deny it, but he loved it when you complimented him. It was like a drug. Hell, if he was being honest, you were the drug. He could never tell you, but he loved it when your neighbors got too rowdy at nighttime and made you come sleep with him. Your presence alone calmed him and excited him at the same time, he couldn’t get enough of you. He had begun to skip his morning runs more often just so he could lay with you a little while longer, opting to squeeze in his run later. He loved when he was able to wake up before you on his own, minutes that felt too far and in between, where he could study what made you, you. The way your mouth was slightly parted as you slept, the curvature of your hips, the light freckles that danced across your nose, how his shirts looked better on you than they ever would on him, the way you snuggled even closer to him if he tried to pull away. Gwilym could get lost in you, but you could never know. He couldn’t stand to lose what the two of you had if you didn’t feel the same way.

Gwilym finished the dishes from dinner and joined you on the couch, grabbing his wine from the counter on the way. After taking a drink of his wine and letting out a soft “damn, that’s good,” Gwilym reclined into the couch to read his copy of  _ We Should All Be Feminists  _ by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie that you had gifted him after he had accompanied you to the 2017 Women’s March in London. 

Not long after the two of you had been sitting on the couch together, relaxing in your post-dinner haze, you began to hear the sound of your neighbors’ headboard banging against your bedroom wall. Letting out a big sigh, you turned to Gwilym, frustrated by the fact that you could hear them all the way in the living room and also because you were reading an intriguing article outlining the ways that Britain could find a way to get out of Brexit. 

“Can you hear them? Lately, it’s been getting worse. I seriously think that the dude is jackhammering her,” you laugh, knowing Gwilym knew exactly what you were talking about. “Yeah, I don’t know how you share a wall with them. It’s like they aren’t even trying to make each other cum, they just are having a contest to see who can be louder,” Gwil snickered, bringing his wine glass up to his lips again. “I mean, I can say for a fact that that thrust rhythm would be utterly terrible. My guess is that he’s trying to make up for his micro-peen,” you smile, Gwil nearly shooting wine out his nose at your suggestion. 

The two of you continue on making fun of your neighbors for who knows how long, and eventually you hear them both scream obscenely fake moans in an attempt to convince the other that they actually enjoyed it. You look to Gwil to see his reaction, and you find that his jaw is dropped in shock at their forced noises. You burst into laughter, loving just how Gwilym couldn’t control his expression. “You know, with all that practice they get, I am surprised that they haven’t gotten better at it. I’m sure that even we could do better than them, even though they’ve been going at it for at least the 14 months we’ve been here,” you remark, not noticing the change in Gwilym’s expression as you finished off your glass of wine. 

As you sat your glass down on your coaster, you look back at Gwilym, surprised that he hasn’t replied to your comment yet. It was bold, even for you. Meeting Gwilym’s gaze, you noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I know that look, what are you planning?” you asked, cocking your head to one side as his smirk grew. “You’ll see,” he said as he grabbed your hand and pulled you off the couch, leading you into your bedroom. 

“Lay down on the bed,” Gwil commanded, the mischievous look still not gone from his eyes. Confused as to what he was getting at but still trusting him, you followed his direction and laid down, only to have Gwilym climb on top of you, with his legs resting outside of yours, one hand on the headboard and the other next to your head. 

“They’re always making such terrible noises, I think we should make some fake ones that are even better just to shut them up,” he explained, his hand coming down to brush strands of hair out of your face. “And this couldn’t have been done with both of us in an upright position?” you countered, your eyebrows raised. “It’s for authenticity purposes Y/N,” Gwilym said, jokingly rolling his eyes as if that were obvious. “Plus it wouldn’t be nearly as fun. Oh, and Y/N?” he leaned down towards your ear. “Don’t forget to make some noise,” he said with a wink as he began to lightly tap the headboard against the wall. 

You looked up at him in shock, not quite sure how to respond. No matter how many times you had imagined being under Gwilym for the first time, this sure as hell was  _ not _ it. “Gwil I don’t—” you began to protest, but you were cut off by a loud moan that erupted from Gwilym. 

     “Oh,  _ fuck _ , just like that, yes,” he moaned, his head thrown back in fake pleasure. When you didn’t respond with your own moan, he looked down at you with an expectant look on his face, eyebrows raised. “Well go on then,” he whispered, and you let out a small moan, shutting your eyes in embarrassment. “That’s it babygirl, let everyone know who is fucking you this well,” Gwilym moaned, his head dropping down and his eyes fluttering shut.

Gwilym’s encouragement caused you to loosen up a bit, the tension in your shoulders dissipating as your body was rocked back and forth with his thrusts. Feeling adventurous, you decided to step it up a notch. “Oh fuck, your cock feels so good, don’t stop,” you groan, shifting underneath Gwilym to slightly spread your legs. Gwilym began to let out soft grunts that punctuated each thrust, and you began to let your mind wander. 

_ Was this what Gwilym sounds like in bed?  _ you thought. Every time you had imagined Gwilym fucking you, you hadn’t thought about what he would sound like. You had only imagined what he would feel like--and boy was that enough for you. But now, lying underneath him as he made these sounds, you couldn’t help but be mad at your past self. You could live off of his moans alone. You found yourself getting progressively more turned on with every sound, and soon your moans weren’t all that fake anymore. You let yourself go, moaning louder than you had before from Gwilym’s actions.

“Yeah, you like that? Fuck, you’re so tight,” Gwilym panted, as you looked up to see a bead of sweat trail down his neck, disappearing underneath his jumper. This whole situation, your horny neighbors causing Gwil to be on top of you, one slip of the hips away from thrusting into your thigh, was so odd but incredibly hot. As much as you tried to push the thoughts away, you couldn’t seem to get them out of your mind.  _ What if Gwil was fucking you for real? No faking, just you and him, learning each other. _ You couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Fuck, Gwilym, I need you, more,” you whined, your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

Suddenly, everything came to a stop. “What did you just say?” Gwilym breathed, his eyes boring into yours, which snapped open as he spoke. Your mind was frozen, neither of you had said the other’s name so far. And the worst part of it all, you had meant it. It sounded real, and Gwilym knew it. 

“I, uh, I don’t know, forget it, it was nothing,” you stammer, trying to avoid looking at Gwilym. “Nuh-uh. You know what you said. Say it,” Gwilym murmured, his voice raspy as he leaned closer to you ever so slightly. “Gwilym, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you breathe, looking towards the door, anything to avoid Gwil’s gaze. You felt his hand come up to grasp your jaw, making you to look at him. Gwilym had moved even closer to your face—your lips just centimeters apart. “Say it, please,” he begged, his eyes searching yours. “Fuck, Gwil, I need you,” you whispered, his lips crashing to into yours as soon as you finished. 

The kiss was passionate and desperate, years of secretly pining after each other finally coming to a head. You snaked your hands through Gwilym’s hair, deepening the kiss. Gwilym brought his hands up to cup your face, his thumb lightly brushing over your cheekbone. You felt your lips part, allowing Gwilym access. When both of you felt like you were out of oxygen, he pulled away reluctantly and ducked his head in the crook of your neck, your fingers running through his brown locks.

“That was amazing,” he panted, still out of breath. “I second that,” you add with a chuckle. “God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered as he pressed kisses down the side of your neck, causing you to moan when he lightly sucked on your sweet spot. “I could hear those sounds forever,” Gwil murmured as he ran his hands underneath your shirt, looking to you for permission to take it off. You quickly nodded, arching your back off of the bed to help him take it off, your bra following suit soon after. 

“You’re beautiful, Y/N, don’t let anyone tell you differently,” he said as he kissed down your torso, his hands coming up to massage your breasts. “Gwil, stop it,” you giggled as he rubbed his beard near the waistband of your jeans. “Never,” he smirked as he rubbed his chin just below your belly button, his hands coming up to the button on your jeans. 

“Can I?” he asked, tugging on the waistband so you would know what he was referring to. “Gwil, of course. I’ll stop you if I’m uncomfortable, okay?” you smiled, wondering how you got so lucky as you combed back stray hairs that had fallen onto his forehead. Nodding, he unfastened your jeans and pulled them off, tossing them over his shoulder. He climbed off the bed, and stripped down to his boxer briefs, turning around in a circle to show off his body and bowing as you let out a wolf whistle. 

“Damn, that’s my man,” you laughed as he climbed back into his position between your legs. “I love the sound of that,” he remarked, bringing his hand up to rub at your clothed clit. You tensed up at the sensation, finally getting some relief after what seemed like ages. “Please, Gwil, more,” you moaned, your head thrown back in pleasure yet also desperate for him to actually touch you.

“Your wish is my command,” Gwil said with a nod of his head, swiftly pulling your underwear off and resting your thighs on his shoulders as he dove in, eager to please you. He licked a long stripe up your pussy, taking his time to explore you. He had waited over ten years for this moment, and damn it if he wasn’t going to savor it. Your hand tugged on Gwilym’s hair, pulling him towards where you needed him most.

Gwil looked at you with nothing but love as he breathed over your clit, his left hand snaking up to grasp your right hand. He tapped his finger on the back of your hand, causing you to look down at him, and he latched onto your clit, giving it kitten licks and suckling on it gently. “Fuck, Gwil yes, just like that,” you moaned, your legs closing around his head. He applied a touch more pressure, causing you to moan out again. His right hand pulled your thighs apart slightly so he could slip a finger into you, curling upward to find your sweet spot. 

“Yes, Gwil, I’m close,” you panted, alarmed at just how fast you were approaching your high. He could feel your walls contracting around his digit, so Gwil slipped another finger into you and pumped them in and out of you at a faster pace, sucking on your clit even harder. 

“That’s it love, cum for me,” he cooed, and that was all you needed before you were sent tumbling over the edge, squeezing his hand and practically screaming Gwilym’s name as you came. Gwilym worked you down from your high and lapped up all of your juices eagerly, only stopping once you tugged on his hair. 

He looked up at you from between your thighs, his beard glistening, with the biggest shit-eating grin on his face you’d ever seen. “That,” you breathed, trying to catch your breath after having the most mind-blowing orgasm you had ever experienced, “was amazing.” You reached down to pull Gwilym up to kiss you, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. “Thank you so much,” you said, resting your forehead on Gwilym’s. “I can assure you, the pleasure was all mine. Seriously, I could live down there,” he laughed, pressing a quick peck to your lips before your hand snaked down into his underwear to tug on his impossibly hard cock. 

“And now it’s my turn,” you said, attempting to push him off of you, to no avail. “Nuh-uh. Tonight is about you, love,” he said as he stood up and pulled off his boxer briefs, revealing the cock of your dreams. You could feel your jaw drop as you watched it slap up against his toned stomach, rock hard.

“Fuck me,” you murmured, not really expecting that to be said out loud. “That’s the plan, love,” he replied with a chuckle, walking up next to you to press a kiss to your temple. “Condoms?” he asked, pointing with one hand towards your nightstand table and towards your bathroom with the other. 

“I’m on birth control and I trust you, so I don’t really think we need one… That’s only if it’s okay with you,” you quickly added, grinning sheepishly. “Fucking hell woman, you’re gonna be the death of me,” Gwilym replied, returning to his spot above you and bringing you in for another deep kiss. He reached down and gave himself a few tugs, lining himself up at your entrance. 

“Ready love?” he asked, looking to you for the go-ahead. “Yes Gwil, fuck, I can’t wait to feel you,” you moaned, ready for him to start fucking you. Slowly he pushed into you, his head dropping in concentration as moans flew freely from both of your mouths. “That’s it love, feel me. God, you’re doing so well,” he cooed as you felt him stretch you, inch by inch until he bottomed out. You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding, not quite realizing just how large Gwilym was until he was balls deep in you. 

“Gwil you can go ahead and move,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Oh thank goodness,” he chuckled, slowly pulling almost completely out of you before thrusting back in, creating a slow yet pleasing pace to get you fully adjusted to him. “Fuck, Y/N you’re so tight around me, I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he moaned, adding a snap to the ends of his thrusts so he would brush against your clit, igniting a fire in your core again. 

“It’s fine Gwil, you already made me cum harder than anyone else ever has, I won’t hold it against you,” you said, reaching up to tilt his jaw just enough so he could look you in the eye. “God, I love you, Y/N, but that’s just not gonna work for me,” he said, grabbing a pillow from next to your head. “I love you too Gwilym, but what are you do—ohhh my god please don’t stop,” you moaned as Gwilym lifted your hips to place the pillow underneath them, creating a new angle for him to thrust into you at. Now, his dick dragged against your front wall with every thrust, going deeper than ever before.

Gwilym picked up the pace and began thrusting wildly into you, the room filled with your combined moans, the headboard rapping against the wall, and the sound of slapping skin. “Fuck, yes, Gwilym, your cock feels so good,” you moaned, bringing your hand down to rub your aching clit. Gwilym brushed your hand away and began to trace lazy circles around it, pressing directly on it every time he bottomed out. “Y/N, you’re taking me so well, better than I ever imagined,” he grunted, trying his hardest to stave off his orgasm. 

“Are you close?” he groaned, his pace faltering slightly. “Fuck yes, Gwil, so close,” you panted, bringing your hand down on top of his to guide his ministrations over your clit. “Come with me,” he breathed, his eyes locking onto yours as he thrusted into you, his hips stuttering as his orgasm began to take over him. He buried himself deep inside you and grunted into your ear as he came, shooting rope after rope of cum into you, triggering your own orgasm at the sensation. “ _ Fuck _ , Gwil,” you moaned, your back arching off the bed as your walls pulsed around him, milking him for all he was worth. “Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, your walls causing him to spurt once again into you. 

You both stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace until your breathing returned to normal. Groaning, Gwilym pulled out of you, running to your bathroom to get a wet washcloth to clean you up with. As soon as Gwilym cleaned both you and himself up, he tossed the used pillow on the ground and joined you in bed, laying down next to you. 

“Do you think that will shut them up?” he asked, looking down at you expectantly. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I think that might’ve shut them up. You know, this was not at all how I envisioned us getting together, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said, snuggling into his torso, your fingers running through his chest hair. “Me either,” Gwilym replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You felt yourself begin to drift off, your eyelids becoming increasingly heavy. “Goodnight Gwil,” you murmured, receiving a soft “goodnight Y/N,” before you slipped into sleep, beginning the night in the same position you loved to wake up in. 

The next morning, you were pleased to find that Gwilym had chosen to forgo his morning run to sleep in with you. He was still underneath you, his hair mussed from the previous night’s activities and his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Yeah, you had a new favorite type of morning now.


End file.
